


Year of the Wolf

by Dedmerath



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, No ocxcanon characters tough, Original Character(s), Porn With Plot, Slow Burn, original characters in love with original characters, werewolf!McCree
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-09-16 05:34:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16947981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dedmerath/pseuds/Dedmerath
Summary: Hanzo and McCree hate each other...most of the time. But protecting Overwatch, Genji, and McCree's humanity takes priority.





	1. From the past comes trouble

It had been a few days since McCree had finally answered Overwatch’s recall; set course to Watchpoint Gibraltar’s base and returned to his same old team and life. Well, almost. To say it was the same was to ignore half of it, but the cowboy prefered to avoid certain topics for now, thinking about Blackwatch and...Reyes, was not something he needed in his mind at the time.

And so, Overwatch’s newest addition, Agent Jesse McCree is still getting used to the fact that he had just gone out for a quick mission and then returned to the same place, like he used to do so many years ago. The same old routine repeating itself as if it were engraved inside his soul: Going out, getting back, writing reports, training, ignoring training, then going out again...It all made the cowboy feel young; AND old if that was possible.

With a heavy sigh filled with a bit of silly nostalgia, McCree turned on the intercom as he watched the sunset from his old favorite spot, squinting his eyes when Winston’s heavy voice reached him.

“Agent McCree.” The worry on the gorilla’s voice was pretty evident and the cowboy groaned softly, remembering suddenly about the medical check he was supposed to attend an hour ago. Well, better be scolded by Winston than Angela. And Jesse was sure that was what their resident scientist wanted to talk about.

“Agent McCree, are you there?”

McCree let a puff of smoke leave his mouth in an circle shape before he answered with a big grin on his face, as though he could show it through the intercom and make all tension go away.

“I hear you, Winston. Guess Angela got you to check on me?”

A nervous chuckle can be heard and the cowboy makes another smoke ring as he lets the gorilla order his thoughts.

“It's been an hour, McCree.”

“Can’t a man enjoy a cigar in peace?...Y'all worry too much, I’m as healthy as a horse!”

“Still…”

It was the cowboy’s turn to chuckle, as he faked defeat in the hands of the other, both hands going up as he turned to leave his usual smoking spot with a deep yawn. Winston was always prone to worry easily, but and having someone watching over him made McCree feel oddly at home. It had been too long; too long on the run; too long watching his back and feeling paranoid every waking minute.

The change of pace was definitely welcome.

“Fine...Will do Captain!” To this, the gorilla seemed to relax a bit, considering the whole recalling everyone and rebuilding Overwatch ordeal.

“Thank you, Cowboy.”

“Heh. It's sure good to be home again.”

Home. The word rolled out of his tongue without thinking, quite naturally even, and McCree was about to change the subject when it was Winston who decided to talk again, this time in a more hushed tone; a feat only a soft spoken fellow like him could muster, even with his size.

“Ah...one more thing...McCree.”

“Yeah?”

The cowboy expected to hear something about his mission report while he walked towards what they now called ‘The medbay’, but instead…

“We have a new recruit on base…Genji brought him, its the older Shimada.”

 

TWACK

 

...the scientist words made him halt in place, old feelings of rage and guilt returning all at once. The older Shimada; The man that almost killed Genji, his supposed brother was in the base with them.

“So he finally shows his tail, huh?”

 

TWACK

 

“McCree, be nice.”

McCree almost laughed, of course Winston would want him to play nice! The gorilla knew perfectly how the cowboy felt about the Sparrow’s past: The hurting inside his friend, the red eyed rage, how difficult had it been to make the ninja start to talk. This had nothing to do with a medical check, they just wanted to make sure McCree would behave properly!

“Nice? Of course I will be nice, partner. A nice kick in the-“

 

TWACK

 

The cowboy stopped on his tracks just when he was about to enter the base’s hangar. He looked down to the airstrip to see a new set of archery targets adorning the place, some arrows already set right on the center of them; a perfect score. Whoever had been practicing was a skilled marksman to be able to achieve such a feat, and McCree felt curious for a moment, forgetting his anger or maybe just welcoming the distraction. He didn't want to fight Winston after all, the monkey...scientist, didn’t really deserve it.

“McCree, are you still there?...”

 

TWACK

 

Another shot, another Bullseye. DAMN Impressive.

He whistled softly in appreciation at the abused target and then turned to look at who was practicing; A man of black hair and sharp features, with eyes as fierce as a preying hawk. The sole imposing sight of the archer made the cowboy stare; his regal posture, the intricate and beautiful tattoo on his arm...the Shimada clan symbol on his equipment.

_Talking about the devil._

It was not the first time McCree HATED someone, so he knew. He hated this man. Hated what he had done to Genji. Hated that he was there joining Overwatch like nothing had happened. If this was a trap to kill the bastard, Genji had not mentioned it and the brother...what was his name again? ...didn’t look worried at all.

 

TWACK

 

“I'll be with Angela in a moment.”

_Be nice, Jesse._

McCree could hear a certain female voice in his head, a ghost from the past telling him to play the civil game. And he grinned, grinned and relaxed himself to asses the situation like he always did when in tension or strife: Wait for the right moment.

“Pretty handy with that bow!”

 

_TWECK!_

 

The scowl on the archer’s face when he completely missed the mark made the cowboy feel slightly better; The lonely arrow on the target’s edge mocking the other like McCree’s words never could did one hell of a good job annoying his owner.

Damn. He could almost taste it, the subtle shame, the anger that slowly tinted the man’s cheeks red, but more importantly; the way Hanzo Shimada looked at him, glaring him daggers and insults as he walked to retrieve the arrows in silence.

It was like watching the old Genji all over again, the same kind of fire and violent pride; The eyes of a Dragon.

McCree tipped his hat and haudyed to the man before turning to go, fully knowing how the other’s stare burned on his back. It was time to go look for the younger Shimada and get some answers. If possible.

Why was the brother there?

Was this the result of Genji’s travels and search for inner peace?

The cowboy let the metal door close behind him and took his cigar out his mouth to sigh deeply, whatever answer would the ninja give, the cowboy would take it, he was not back in Watchpoint to start trouble.

_Be nice, Jesse._

However, if the archer started something himself, well…Jesse was not against the opportunity to punch the man’s face.

Nicely.

 

—————————————————————————

 

Life had changed dramatically for Hanzo in the last few days, weeks passing since his encounter with Genji on Hanamura. For once, he was not escaping from Shimada assassins, mourning his brother and killing in order to regain his honor. But more importantly: He was now living with said brother who was not only alive but invited him to be part of his old group and now illegal organization.

Overwatch.

It was surreal. Hanzo didn't really know how to feel about the whole situation yet.

So he turned to training, something he knew and was familiar with; a simple task of precision, control and the honing of skills. So repetitive and automatic for him that it allowed his mind to relax, to avoid the heavy burden of guilt he felt desperately clinging to his chest.

The dragons stirred and tensed within him, so the archer tried to return to his task, to forget how unwelcomed he was in this place. Fresh in his memory were the not so subtle glances he received from other agents, the burning of their hate and suspicion.

They knew about his sins.

And Hanzo knew he deserved their scorn, but his pride made him glare back at them just as strongly and it was not making the situation any less awkward. Something he had and would endure for his brother, for their lost bond and humanity.

The older Shimada’s soul was already lost, but Genji’s could still be protected, and Hanzo would not make the same mistake twice; His brother was now his only priority, anything else was just a trifle.

With this in mind, the archer continued to live the next days in a very simple and isolated way; He trained, meditated and avoided other agents as much as possible. Only Genji talked to him anyway, and the medical checks had already been completed so Hanzo was able to enjoy his solitude.

It didn't last tough; Soon the older Shimada was called to prove his worth as their new teammate, and the archer was sure Overwatch would be watching him intently, judging his every move. And, in a way, that's what he wanted them to do. What he expected them to do.

All he needed was to excel in everything. Be a good agent and…

“...Agent Shimada?”

Hanzo blinked. His eyes looking up to see Winston, the big scientist gorilla, staring at him. Behind the Overwatch agent was a wide holoprojection that showed the globe and their mission’s location, and he was pointing at it with a pen of sorts. A soft blush tinted the archer’s face as he understood he had become so entranced with his own thoughts he had ignored part of the mission’s explanation. He had been so worried, his focus had drifted without him noticing.

“My apologies.” Hanzo crossed his arms and nodded to the scientist. “Please continue.”

Winston straightened his glasses and looked down to a little holopad he was holding in his other hand, returning to his debrief with a bit of effort, probably repeating the last sentence or two. The archer felt a bit ashamed about that, but decided not to show it on his face, scowling slightly. This rewarded him a chuckle from the man to his right.

The man who was going to accompany him on the field; The cowboy-like agent, Jesse McCree. Since their first encounter during his morning practice days ago, the ex Yakuza had decided it simply: He didn’t like this excuse of a man.

“...And those are all the details.” The Gorilla added, apparently very happy with himself, tapping the holopad with his pen again. “You will be departing in an hour. Be sure to get everything you need, gentlemen.”

“Will do, Partner.” Agent McCree tipped his hat and turned to leave, not paying Hanzo any attention at all and just stopping to light his cigarrillo before walking out of the room. The archer could tell already: It would be a very awkward mission, the cowboy was one of Genji’s closest friends, and the way he had looked at him while they trained, well…

Hanzo had seen assassins look at him with less spite.

Not that the archer really cared, but he expected the cowboy to at least avoid being a hindrance to their objective and act like a professional.

_In another life, I would have feed him to the dragons._

Their job was an easy one; A very important supporter of the Omnic Civil Rights Movement and many other prominent political figures were going to attend a charity event to raise funds to help those groups still affected by the Crisis, and Hanzo and McCree’s mission was to keep this particular person and his guests out of danger.

A bodyguard mission, very different from his usual line of work.

_It shall be done._

With swift and precise movements, the ex Yakuza changed into the clothes he was given for the endeavor; A white shirt, black pants, black cavatini shoes and a black tuxedo that made his skin itch as soon as he got it on. Hanzo looked at himself on the changing room’s mirror and decided to grab a pair of glasses, carefully set them on his nose and let his hair fall over his shoulders to complete the look.

There were going to be rich people and politicians at the party, and the older Shimada would not appreciate any of them recognizing him by any chance.

_I'm that man no longer._

“Finished already?” McCree stepped out of the showers all nude and unashamed, his thick hair dripping wet, puffs of steam leaving his skin. The archer had the feeling the Cowboy wanted to say more by the way he scoffed at him as he walked past to grab a towel, but if anything crossed the other’s mind, he didn't share.

That made the air around them even more tense if possible and Hanzo could not help staring as the other put his prosthetic on and got changed into his own formal clothes. He also had things to say, but where to start? It was evident the other agent hated him, and it was starting to be mutual, but one thing was to deal with an angry cowboy ignoring him and the other...

The dragons almost bolted from his body to hunt for prey as he left his spot beside the mirror and walked to McCree to look at him in the eye. The cowboy stared back at him, silent but ready, like a man in middle of a duel, his brown eyes not even blinking and his breath faint and almost unnoticeable.

It made the archer smirk, his ‘partner’ had balls.

Slowly, the archer reached up to grab the other’s tie, fingers feeling the soft fabric as they worked with it, suddenly pulling, getting McCree to free the air he was holding with a grunt.

“I know what you think of me, Agent McCree. Shall we do something about it?”

The pressure on the cowboy’s neck was almost non existent, but the weight of the Shimada’s words was heavy on his tongue, a soft whisper that promised so much more. It was simple, really; if this man wanted to punch him, he better get to it and stop wasting his time.

The smoke blown over his face told Hanzo the other had received the message, and as McCree put his cigarillo back on his mouth and looked pensive, he continued to work on the tie knot, waiting.

_Rude and a savage. So predictable._

“Oh, I would Shimada, but...Genji.”

That last soft spoken word got the archer’s attention, and his eyes returned to look at the other agent with silent understandment; his hands leaving McCree’s neck to now work on his own tie.

“Good.” That was all Hanzo said before tucking every remaining garment in place and turning to grab his bow case. His brother was important to this man and he could mildly respect that. Respect it enough not to further their violence or release the dragons on him.

The older Shimada could feel they stir, they wanted a bite, a bite of the man that had blown smoke on their master face, a bite of the man that was staring at them defiantly, unshaken.

 _Not today._ Hanzo thought, looking back at the cowboy one last time as they both left the facility to work on their first mission together.

_Not today._

 

—————————————————————————

 

That time of the year King’s Row nights were really cold, snow already falling to cover the streets and ceilings, giving a show to those who stared from the inside of the five stars hotel coziness. It was so different from the warmth inside the ballroom’s walls, and McCree had to lose the neck of his shirt and ask for more ice for his drink.

The cowboy looked down at the glass he hold on his good hand and drank the whole thing in one go, the strong but sweet taste of expensive whiskey filling his mouth. Rich people might not be his type, but damn, that was good liquor.

He was obviously asking for a refill.

“Please don’t.”

As if he could read his mind, Shimada scowled at him from his place to his right; the whole bodyguard attire making him look even less welcoming. It was fitting, he guessed, that the archer would look quite regal in a tuxedo.

_He fits the place._

“No worries, Paddy, this aint my first rodeo.”

To this the ex yakuza just rolled his eyes and looked away, as if he could ignore the cowboy for the rest of the gala. But they had a job to do, and their client was still in middle of that big fancy hall, chatting to other politicians and charming his way around the whole party.

If only, McCree ‘liked’ the guy because he had been very grateful about the whole undercover agents situation, wanted to support overwatch’s return, and also...because he was touchy and Shimada hated it.

Watching the archer tense like a cat as the man hugged him while he thanked both for showing up almost made the cowboy laugh out loud.

As for their mission current status...

Their client Yulian Antonovich was a man in his 40s, a scientist and politician who had been targeted by Talon in the past due to his family riches and endeavors; it showed on his white hair and prosthetic hand. A hand he didn't bother to cover and used to greet others with a strong grip.

He had loved his own metal arm for sure, specially the skull on it.

“Another drink, sir?”

A petite waitress made her way to his side, smiling brightly and holding a tray full of shots of sweet golden beverages. She offered one to Shimada too, but the man rejected it cordially as McCree took one shot for himself and winked to the girl.

“Thank you kindly, sweetheart.”

Then he looked at his new partner to see if the man had something to say about it too; damn bastard had done nothing but complain all ni-

-TZZZZZZGHHHHHZZZZ…-

Both agents stopped what they were doing to pay attention to their intercoms; the static tick around the male voice that tried to get through the gala’s security line.

Other bodyguards were set around the whole building, and even when they were no Overwatch, McCree knew rich people like those invited would not hire someone who would just play with the communication system.

-TZZZZZZ! H-help...roof...Ugh...please...TZZZZGHHH!-

The archer started to walk away as soon as the static returned, like a predator that had just been unleashed. It made the cowboy think about the old Blackwatch times for a moment, when Genji would just turn into this silent killing...machine.

“Wait, I'll go with you.”

“No.” Shimada didn’t even turn to look at him, the people around them both almost disappearing, unimportant, Genji’s image too strong right now for Jesse to ignore the similarities. “Stay and guard our client.”

Bossy son of a bitch.

_Well, he would not be so stupid as to not call old McCree if things go south, right?_

The cowboy shrugged. He hated the guy but Hanzo Shimada was his partner right now thanks to Winston, and they had both agreed to cooperate; His luck be damned. So if the archer wanted to go alone and encountered someone up there, he better do his job and deal with it.

_I need a cigar right now._

Fortunately, all McCree had to do as his part of the deal was to keep and eye on their client and...wait, where was Antonovich going? Was he leaving the party early?

Tailing behind, the overwatch agent noticed the politician was walking out of the hall with two people by his side: a bulky man who looked very comfortable with Yulien’s prosthetic hand on his hip and a thin woman who was probably some sort of escort.

She stared back at him for a moment before following the other men, and the cowboy felt a strange uneasiness about it, her eyes were clouded and tired; Lifeless.

Broken.

_Shimada better be having a great time up there._

 

_—————————————————————————_

 

The rooftop was covered partly in snow, icy stone and glass like ledges that made Hanzo’s work harder than it should be, only an undershirt protecting his exposed left shoulder and half of his chest. He would be feeling the cold soon, but it had its rewards; he had a clear shot to the enemy’s head.

“The enemy is here” He whispered to the intercom, hoping McCree would be sober enough to understand. “I'll take care of it.”

The man had not seen him yet and was holding one of the gala’s bodyguards by the collar of their suit, more men thrown around unconscious, beaten down and  bloody.

The archer’s breath became slow and controlled, even with a clear line of sight, a clean assassination needed patience, specially when the target was wearing what looked like a high tech helmet.

It wasn't protecting his neck tough.

 

TWACK!

 

The arrow bounced off its perfect course just before connecting as the man lifted one of his arms and Hanzo cursed silently; a bright light constructed shield had materialized from thin air.

“An arrow?”

_That's a teen’s voice._

The archer set another arrow loose, it sang in middle of the night, swift as the wind. However, the enemy reacted quickly and blocked it again, looking at him from his position, head tilting as if he were curious about his attacker’s choice of weapon.

“Wait, It's that a BOW? For real?”

 Another light shield appeared, this time from the other arm, and Hanzo could appreciate the big prosthetic arms that were kindly generating them. Those shields explained the kid’s lack of armor on the rest of his body.

The archer doubted the tacky orange best, plain shirt and loose black pants the other sported were suited for defensive combat... But then again, he was the one wearing a damn tuxedo himself.

_I'll make this quick._

The ex yakuza remained silent, letting his bow speak for him, arrow after arrow, changing his position as he ran and jumped around, trying to break his enemy’s defense with shots that went straight for its mark, or curved to deceive.

“You know, this has to be the first time I have to fight a guy with a bow. I mean, who uses a bow these days?...”

 

TWACK! TWACK! TWACK!

 

“...It's very cool tough!...”

 

TWACK! TWACK! TWACK!

 

“...Not a talker I see!...Well, too bad for you I've had my share of snipers in the past and I know…”

 

TWACK! TWACK! TWACK!

 

“...that there is one thing that wins every sniper fight…”

Hanzo had gotten closer, using a fast sucesion of attacks to try to break the shields, however, even when the cracks where getting visible there was no telling when the kid’s defences would crumble and all he could do was to get ready to use-

“TIMING!!”

In a flash, the shield bearer had jumped forward evading one last arrow, metal claws about to shred the archer’s flesh with bones included...

“No.” Hanzo spoke at least, looking at the other in the eye and then at the arrow he had just set loose. “It's simple geometry.”

The projectile exploded in a bunch of shards behind the other’s back, scrap metal digging into the enemy’s flesh and prosthetic, pinning him to the ground violently. The ex yakuza covered his face with one arm, the dragons glowing in defiance, some of the shards cutting the clothes on them but melting against the hot tattooed skin.

When he looked ahead, he saw the kid trying to get up but barely standing, almost falling from the building’s edge, still shaken by the attack. One of his omnic like arms twitched, and Hanzo smirked knowing he had finally busted it.

_Simple geometry indeed._

Stepping on the other’s hand, the ex yakuza took a stance he used to know very well; his voice felt heavy with cruelty and anger but was still sharp and cold as the ice around them.

“Now that you calmed down. I expect you to talk”

The archer applied more pressure on the prosthetic to make a point, noticing how the kid’s arm twitched slightly.

“WHO sent you?”

Hanzo’s question echoed in the night, interrupted only by the sound of static coming from his enemy’s head.

_I see, his voice comm is dead. Explains the silence._

“Hm, very well. I'll find ways to make you talk, but first…”

Reaching down, he slipped his fingers under the rim of the kid’s helmet and started to force it out and expose the other’s mouth, allowing him to talk...or beg.

“Don’t…”

_So he is already begging._

Pulling more made the other tremble in anticipation, or was it shame?

“Don’t...touch MY HELMET!!”

The kick that followed was an act of pure and stupid  anger, which the archer saw coming from a mile away; The boy used his free arm to balance himself and throw a upward kick from his position on the floor.

So predictable, so easy to blo-

Like the orange shields had generated from thin air before, his enemy’s leg turned to light and phased trough his defensive stance and kicked the agent’s jaw with vicious strength.

_What...just…?_

Hanzo’s mind went blank for a moment; his ears were ringing, the dragons screaming inside of him trying to wake him from his daze as his whole world spinned around...

...and he fell towards the terrace’s edge.

 

—————————————————————————

 

\- ...The enemy is here. I'll take care if it.-

“Wait, Paddy, give me more informationnnghh...”

McCree was so jealous of the other agent right now; He’d very much prefer to be on the terrace getting rid of unwelcome visitors than watching their client flirt on the hotel's loft.

Figures Antonovich would be a popular man, but what was the cowboy supposed to do when he and his two partners entered the room? Listen to them while they were at it? And he was sure those three ain't gonna play domino in there.

_I'm gonna kill Winston when we get back._

The gunslinger watched as his client guided the other two to their room and opened the door for them, always a gentleman. Then he told them to wait there and ‘prepare thoroughly’ for him…

_Didn't need to hear that._

...while he went to look for something on his room across the hall. Pretty convenient their rooms were in front of each other, McCree had to appreciate that.

_This aint his first rodeo either._

The cowboy lit his cigar and approached Yulian’s door, typing the door’s security code as he listened the other’s happy hum of contempt inside.

However, before he could enter the last number, another thing got his attention and made him stop; it sounded like a scream and Jesse groaned internally at the thought, before a more sharp and gutural plea could be heard.

“....please Lucky! Stop it...no, wait, what are you doing?! No!...Hearghhh!!!”

McCree turned quickly to look at the door behind him, that was not foreplay!

In middle of the man’s screams, the cowboy kicked the door open and stepped inside the room. The sickening sound of a knife entering a body again and again now clear, but the man’s voice was now choking and dying.

The woman from before...Lucky, was seated on her boss’s belly wearing nothing but a babydoll and a layer of his blood.

She looked at Jesse slowly.

 _Holy mother of..._  


  


 


	2. Delirious choices

When Jesse answered the recall, he didn’t really expect things to be the same; with Winston in charge, Ana... dead and Blackwatch gone, the idea of those old days returning was absurd, childish.  
So, he simply assumed or HOPED his new missions would never become like Blackwatch’s, in a way...he imagined them to be a lot less violent and more heroic.  
Finding a half naked redhead girl covered in blood down to her prosthetic legs after murdering her boss in the bloodiest way possible was... an interesting surprise.

The place was a mess; what hours before had been a fancy hotel suite was now the scene out of a horror movie. Blood covered the floor and the whole room was filled with the stench of a fresh kill, the stench of fear.

Fear also meant piss, and sweat.

Some things never change.

The girl was now looking at him with wide open eyes; mouth moving slowly, a soft whisper escaping her purple colored lips like a prayer:

“...You…no...can’t go back……we had a deal……….Terrel...”

...oh boy.

It didn’t look good, the cowboy knew how those who felt cornered reacted, and...this Lucky lady…She was shaking like a rattlesnake about to pounce.

“It's ok sweetheart...calm down now…”

McCree raised his arms up front to let the other see his empty hands. If he could settle this without having to fire a bullet then-

“No!...nonono...who sent you...They cant make me…”

The girl was in shook, something was scaring her out of her mind and it was not the idea of facing prison.

Is death she fears, or worse. This was planned, someone wanted this man dead.

Which meant..the moment she recovered her wits, negotiations were over. Still, it didn’t stop McCree from trying again.

“I'm just from security, sweetheart...now calm down and we ca-“

The knife flying towards the cowboy’s face was drenched in blood, little droplets floating off of it and leaving a trail behind it like the tail of a snake. Five more join it in a flurry of slow but graceful movements; red liquid spilling over the girl’s skin and flowing from the dead man’s body in slow motion.  
A clock was already ticking inside the cowboy’s mind, a second turning to ten...then to twenty...thirty...His right eye was burning and the air around him felt hot on his skin, like memories from the desert’s merciless sun.

Time stopped...and McCree’s hand moved to the concealed holster inside his suit.

Its High Noon somewhere in the world.

When Jesse was able to breathe again, six knives fell on the floor with a clatter as peacekeeper rested on his hand, its barrel empty and the muzzle fuming.

“...” Lucky seemed confused for a second, her grey eyes looking down to the cowboy’s feet where her weapons laid bare. McCree knew negotiations were over the moment she looked up and one more knife appeared on her right hand.

Oh? So those prosthetics ain't normal ones.

The metal on the side of one leg rearranged, making the subtle clicking sound of blades hitting each other, there were more knives where the other seven came from. And agent Shimada was probably busy himself by the lack of intercom messages coming from the other agent…

Well, none could say Jesse McCree didn’t know how to fight his own battles, tough he would have prefered not to fight such a young girl into submission.

It left a bad taste on his mouth. A very bad taste.

Made him think about little Phareha.

THUD!!

“...!!”

A sudden sound came from outside the apartment making him look away and Jesse cursed internally at his own carelessness. Sadly, he didn't have much time to dwell in it, as a knife was already trying to find his throat. The blade sang swiftly, once, twice; getting faster, aiming better and Jesse’s metal arm came up to block a stab directed to his good eye.

Lucky growled and pushed in for a moment before cutting the cloth covering the prosthetic and looking at it with anger.

“Sorry sweetheart, I already had that one cut out.”

Something inside the girl’s mind snapped, like stepping on a twig; she suddenly looked at McCree’s eyes with her initial terror and slashed two of his metal fingers off.  
The rest of his hand hold the knife tight as the cowboy tried to push the girl down, not worrying about the lost digits.

He was used to close combat, Ana had made sure he knew how to bring a hostile target down and keep them alive in the process; a complete opposite of what their guns did every day. She didn't like killing, and the cowboy had honored her wishes as far as it was possible...something that was probing to be more and more difficult, as the girl’s prosthetics produced another knife to stab him with.

He brawled, he kept her pinned as much as she let him, her lite frame and accuracy telling him she was not made to fight targets like this. She was a ranged fighter, and keeping her from bouncing around and slipping away was set as his high priority; it was like fighting Genji...if he were an angry redhead girl pinned to the ground, trying to stab him with any single chance.

Please, stay down. I Am trying to keep ya alive!

He was sweating, those legs were strong and one of her knives, the one that had snatched his fingers away was too close to his neck for his liking, if only peacekeeper was loaded...if only Shimada answered the intercom!

\- ...Ugh...ghg…-

McCree heard the voice coming through the communicator and froze for a second: His partner was hurt, he had no option now, he had to help Hanzo.

He had to kill the girl.

This realization cleared his mind and senses, his breath slowed down, his eyes felt heavy and defeated for a moment. The cowboy reached for one of the knives on the floor to his right and felt the cold metallic handle with his good hand.

His grip tightened.

...

His eyes looked at hers.

And then slowly at the thing she had stabbed swiftly on his neck. Her knife still on his hand...this was something else…

Damn...I hesitated.

But it was already done.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Hanzo grunted, his eyes opening slowly as he rolled to his side and got hold of the cold tiles under him. His whole body was hurting, and the pain on his head made him blink a few times before he was able to look up and understand where he was.  
He saw the rooftop where he had been fighting earlier, it had been quite the fall, and it felt like so, but his bones were intact and his bow was with him. He had fell on one of the building’s balconies which meant the enemy was still in reach, he could not afford to feel sorry for himself!

“Ngh…”

Sitting up, the archer picked up his bow and one of his arrows, the last one he had on him, scouting the place.  
Maybe he could force the window’s lock, enter the room leading to the balcony, go find Agent McCree and get their client out of there.

The man that had attacked the guards was not a simple thief or extremist; He was an assassin, a young assassin trained from childhood and armed with tech that could fight Shimada’s own.

He had to capture the man, make him talk, letting him escape was not an option.

This was his duty.

However, the clarity of the moment was short lived when the situation in front of him changed abruptly; As he approached the large glass door of the apartment he was able to see inside…Hanzo didn't expect to see agent Jesse McCree dead on the floor.

“...!”

A girl with red hair was on her knees by his side, covered in blood and holding a knife. The ex yakuza didn't think it twice, he would break the door and shoot her in the head. Fast and clean.

“...oh, there you are!”

The archer’s aim was immediately switched to target the source of the voice, where the man he had been fighting before was now looking down on him from another balcony. Perched on it like some kind of monkey, one big metal claw scraping the stone slowly, thoughtful.

His helmet was gone, or tucked away, and Hanzo’s suspicions about him were confirmed: The man was young, twenty years old as much, with the built of a bear.

“Yer thought for a guard...what you did to my helmet and all.” The ‘boy’ smiled and eyed his bow and quiver. “You are probably something else, aren't ya?...But what can you do with one arrow, I wonder?...Are ya going to snipe me down? Do you think you will be fast enough?”

The kid was trying to get under his skin, to provoke him and make him fail the shot. But there was more to do now than just defeat an enemy...if the cowboy was alive...if he was still alive then…

Hanzo turned to his left and aimed again just when the other man jumped at him, he looked at McCree on the floor and hoped he had chosen right.

“RYU GA…” 

The air charged up with electricity, the spirits raging within him, howling, starving, and the Shimada let go, his last arrow seeking its mark.

“...WAGA TEKI WO KURAU!!”

As he was being pinned down, the archer saw the dragons come out and dance around him, flying towards the room to rip their enemies apart with unstoppable force. He tasted blood, warm and full of life, and heard the girl’s cries inside his soul...Hers stared at him for a moment and then whispered something Hanzo could not understand fully before disappearing inside the storm.

When silence returned, the ex yakuza found himself free of the other’s weight; the boy was staring at the room with a shocked expression on his face.

“...Lucky?...”

The archer used this opportunity to grab the young brawler by the collar and throw him down to the floor as hard as he could, feeling like his whole body was screaming at him because of the effort. But he needed to...he HAD to check on the cowboy’s status.

“McCree!...” Hanzo jumped over the broken window and rushed to the other’s side, kneeling to feel the man’s pulse, his own quickening fast. This man, this silly tacky cowboy was Genji’s best friend, and he had him killed…

!!!

A beat, weak and subtle, but strong enough for the archer to feel it under his fingertips.  
Jesse McCree was still alive.

“Lucky...Lucrecia...damn it…what did you do?”

The archer looked to the side, where the girl, Lucky, was lying on the floor; Her partner reaching for her with big metal arms and cuddling her lite body like a child. Hanzo eyed one of the knives on the floor and picked it carefully, knowing very well the danger had not passed yet and their fight could resume in any moment.

Calling for backups would set the enemy on him.

Fighting there would endanger the cowboy.

If only he were alone…

“...She is alive, ya know?” The kid’s voice resonated again in the silent room, and his golden eyes pierced the Shimada’s own with a cold stare. “I tell ya this because...I know what shit yer ‘McCree’ there was injected with…”

Hanzo’s eyes opened slightly and he hastily looked down at the other agent’s neck to see a little puncture under the ear, it was barely distinguished from a mosquito bite, but by observing it enough it was clear what it was. The ex yakuza turned to see his enemy smirking tiredly at him, his arms still holding his partner tightly.  
He could have escaped with her already or called backup, something was not adding up.

“You are hiding something. What are you planning to ask in exchange for this information?”

A metal claw picked a little syringe from the carpet and held it upfront for Hanzo to see it well before crushing it with a merciless fist. “...we can’t ask for backup, she is a traitor…shes...dead to them. But yer not someone common, ya with some organization or some shit, right?...the military, someone who can help her…”

Of every kind of thing the Overwatch agent expected to hear, this was not one of them. There was obviously much more to their story, but right now this situation they were in...they were criminals, assassins, helping them was not something he should even think about.

The kid pressed on. “I will not live without her...if she...dies...I will call for backup, MY backup. I doubt yer die, sure...but I bet yer partner there will not have the same luck.”

Hanzo scowled, the boy was playing heavy cards here, thinking the archer would allow himself to jeopardize the whole mission for one man, to accept such a folly for one man. And yet, he looked down at McCree and saw the subtle twitch of his lower lip, beads of sweat already adorning his skin as he battled whatever he had been dosed with.

The path felt suddenly very clear.

Genji, I will not make the same mistake twice.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

He was running, running through the forest, his nose picking up all those delicious scents and encouraging him to explore more, to hunt.

A bird taking fly made him stop, the flap of its wings sparking his curiosity and making him sniff the air some more. Where? Where was it? His ears heard another sound, and the wolf turned its head in time to see a flash of yellow pass by and get lost in the trees.

CAW CAW

Another bird drew his attention, and the brown wolf tilted its head in confusion, what kind of bird was that? It was entirely black and it's singing was awful...and the way it smelled, it was like sniffing burned wood. It reeked of ash and...death.

The crow looked silently at him for a long moment and then disappeared like smoke taken by the wind, the scent of blood remaining in place like a warning.  
Such a weird bird, but the forest was getting dark and the night always attracted weird creatures after all, it was the order of things...or something around it.

A long calling howl made him stop searching for the crow; It sounded hurt and not so far away from there...he could as well check it out! The brown wolf barked once to make himself known and then started running in the other’s direction. 

He ran through the night, the woods, the grass, the mountains and the snow, howling, getting closer and closer.Never getting tired as everything moved so fast, changed so fast his body felt like gliding through it all. 

When he reached the mountain’s top, the moon was already big in the sky, but something else drew his whole attention: Another wolf was staring at him, fur white marked with gold; It was hurt, a fresh red patch of blood under one of its eyes. 

Are you ok? You look...hurt.

Let me help.

Here...

McCree woke up with a start, he was licking something, something like...hair. Facial hair, like when you lick your own mustache after eating ice cream or something.

But this was not his mustache.

“......hm…who...?”

Hanzo Shimada was staring at him with wide eyes, his face a rigid facade of self control; The man’s cheeks were a deep shade of pink, and he was starting (or trying) to bare his teeth judging the slight twitch of his upper lip. This made the cowboy back down and groan profusely, a sharp pain invading his head suddenly, and the bed moving under him, shaking slightly.

“Sorry luvs! We gotten a bit o... turbulence here!”

Lena’s nervous voice chirped trough like a sweet melody of salvation, and Jesse began to understand where he was piece by little piece of info: Like how he was lying on one of the ship’s beds, safety belt on, fevered sweat covering his whole body and getting the sheets under him wet and cold.

Shimada was sitting by his side, looking away from him, one of his arms held tight inside a sling.

Don't look so worried, partner. I might start to believe you actually care.

There was someone else there too, someone the cowboy could not recognize; dark purple short hair and the eyes of a cat, a guy that could easily pass as Gerard’s son, arms cuffed together and chained to the seat.

If he was an hallucination or not, none said.

The pain made him stop thinking for a moment, it buried deeply behind his eyes, making his head spin and his mouth growl. And the taste on his tongue, damn it tasted vile!

“We will arrive at the base shortly, McCree.”

The archer’s voice sounded tired, but strangely reassuring; the kind of controlled tone you need when you feel like everything else is falling apart.

“...Shimada…”

Jesse blinked, his breath halting. His mind was surely playing tricks with him and the fever had reached the sick peak where it made him hallucinate…even more.

It was like seeing Hanzo’s tattoos come to life.

Two blue serpent like spirits were circling the other man, staring at McCree with the bright feline eyes of a predator. They felt real, incredibly real, and the cowboy bared fangs at them weakly, the vile reaching his mouth again, making him sick.

Damn.

A cold hand touched his forehead, someone was talking to him, telling him to stay awake, to stay ‘there’, but all he could see were those damn beasts dancing around, getting closer.

All he could see...were the dragons.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Hanzo watched McCree fall asleep again and frowned, letting the field medic sent by Overwatch take charge and work on the cowboy, doing as much possible with the little supplies they had. 

The archer had told them all he knew about the other agent’s condition and even pressed their new prisoner about the truth about what his partner had been dozed... But it had proved futile, as the youngster insisted he would reveal the information only when the redheaded girl was safe. 

If Lena hadn’t been adamantly against the idea of beating their extra passenger out of the ship, Hanzo would have reminded the world of the old good Shimada hospitality. 

...

To think he had agreed to such preposterous proposition was something the archer was still trying to understand himself...had he done the right thing? Had he chosen right THIS TIME?

Saving McCree…

The man brought the back of his hand to his face, to the place the cowboy had licked just moments before, it had been a very...weird experience, one he would be sure to take to his grave.

Such insolence.

Hanzo looked at where McCree was now resting, such a fool, letting himself be stabbed like that. What a mediocre first mission together it was, surely Genji would get mad at him for letting his best friend be hurt under his watch. This failure…

“If you are lying to me about knowing what was in that syringe…”

The archer’s voice was almost a whisper, but made their prisoner turn and look at him for a moment before returning to watch over his unconscious, barely alive partner. “I am not.” The kid’s answer didn't make Hanzo any less weary; if anything, it made him tense more than before: When he worked alone this kind of things didn’t happen, he did not return home struggling to keep someone alive, or bargaining for their safety, he just...existed.

Hanzo had to stop looking at the boy’s worried face to avoid thinking about his own and focused on calming his thoughts and preparing himself mentally. He did not care about the cowboy’s safety.

...Not that much.

He had to relax and get ready for what was to come, he had to focus on...

“...Genji?”

The younger Shimada had approached him when they landed on Gibraltar’s base, walking up to his brother and keeping him company while other agents took McCree and the injured girl to be treated properly. Hanzo knew he was not needed there, not even to transport the helmet prisoner to his cell, but something inside him stirred; the dragons had been impossible lately.

“He will be fine, brother. He is strong.”

Genji looked calm on the outside, like any omnic would, but his pose and the little fidgeting of his fingers told a different story, those little details were entirely Genji‘s, and Hanzo adored them.

Reminded him his brother was alive. “Hm.”

“It's not your fault, Hanzo.”

The older Shimada did not respond, just scowled slightly and massaged his temple with a tired hand, he didn't want Genji’s pitty.

“And also...Thank you.”

Hanzo blinked, looking at the sparrow in silence while Genji just continued talking; like doing so were just a natural part of their interactions.

“...You saved him. Hanzo. Saved his life…”

Had he? McCree was on the verge of death, thinking otherwise was simply foolish hope an-

“...I'm just glad you took the right choice this time...!” A pat on his shoulder. “Now go rest a little before your hair turns completely gray!”

“!!!” Hanzo almost choked. “Genji! That's no way to-!”

The archer watched his brother run away and wave back at him, ignoring everything the older Shimada could rant about and disappearing in a green flash. Same old Genji, thought Hanzo, always trying to distract him from the hardships around them.

…

Now he could understand it fully, see behind what he had called…’foolish’ in the past.

And he smiled.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A lone holoscreen illuminated the dark mahogany desk, his user staring at it intently, watching the recording again and again.

“You have been staring at it for hours.” Another man entered the large office room, his dark big silhouette contrasting with the blue city lights that entered through the windows. His omnic voice deep and slightly rusty.

“Can you blame me?...” The man at the desk gestured at the screen. “After all that happened tonight?...I just lost my best friend, I am sensitive.”

“You sent the girl to kill him...” Was the omnic response, crossing his arms and looking down at his over dramatic boss and probably trying to read his mind. “...He cant be so important then, so... What else is keeping you up and away from my bed?”

“Something I thought was lost to the world...” A gloved hand pointed at the screen and what was displayed there, caressing the image with a firm thumb.

The omnic’s lenses focused on it and his metallic mouth opened slightly.

“Aren’t they beautiful?” Yulien Antonovich smiled as the security camera videos from the last hours started playing again, the bright blue spirits dancing and twirling around a single shot arrow. This was bigger than anything Talon had to say, a fair consolation prize to his lost test samples; this was something even his friend Maximilian could not know about.

No, this was something he definitely had to take for himself.

“We have to get those dragons.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you are enjoying the story so far!  
> This is the Helmet kiddo: https://twitter.com/Dedmerath/status/1087530546568314880  
> He has more clothes on in the story, tough...n_n;
> 
> More art: https://twitter.com/Dedmerath/status/1093417853921968129

**Author's Note:**

> \- McCree calls Hanzo Paddy as a nickname to the meaning of the Shimada name; "island rice field".  
> \- Twitter post with art for the fic:
> 
> Hello there! This is my first fic ever, so I hope you like it even when it may be a little wonky. n_n


End file.
